


not from a bottle, but from the heart

by itsmylifekay



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Clint/Natasha if you squint, M/M, Tony is a douche, sorry - Freeform, steve gets hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2014-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-07 11:25:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1897251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsmylifekay/pseuds/itsmylifekay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony was suspended in the air in silent horror as Bucky’s words from earlier echoed in his ears. 'Threw himself on a fucking grenade.'</p>
<p>Looked like not much had changed at all.</p>
<p>And then everything seemed to move in slow motion, the dust settling, Bucky screaming…before suddenly speeding up again, bringing on an onslaught of motion and sound.</p>
<p>Or, Bucky protects Steve's honor, Steve throws himself on a grenade again, and everyone kind of wants to smack some sense into Tony</p>
            </blockquote>





	not from a bottle, but from the heart

**Author's Note:**

> Tony is depicted as a major douche canoe in this fic, I don't actually think he is that much of an asshole but i wanted a reason for Bucky to rant about how amazing Steve is so….sorry Tony!!
> 
> hope you enjoy^^

 

After the wake of SHIELD’s destruction and the spilling of its secrets across the web, it was quickly realized that they had to figure out some kind of system to connect the Avengers, a way for all of them to keep in touch in case of emergency but not alert the media or any other hostile parties. But even with Tony’s genius and ingenuity, it was proving to be a challenge. Because how does one connect two off the grid super spies, a very much in the spotlight executive, a reclusive scientist, a prince from another world, and two reawakened super soldiers who aren’t exactly tech savvy? Not to mention Director Fury- if they could even find him from where he was hidden away in Europe. And to make matters worse, the cooperation and understanding that had blessed them during the alien attack was nowhere to be seen.

“Why do you think Fury always had us do press conferences?” Steve asked, pinching the bridge of his nose with a tense expression on his face. “Why do you think Mrs. Potts always makes you do them, Tony? It’s because people need to see that you’re still human, that you’re still like them, because otherwise you become something to fear and hate. That’s how it was seventy years ago and I highly doubt much has changed.”

“Says the guy who used to sing show tunes.” Tony rolled his eyes. “Besides, it’s not like you can compare your experience to what some of the rest of us are dealing with. Like I’ve said before, these people are spies, their secrets have secrets. They can’t afford to be in the public eye. But you’re practically government property, everyone knows everything about you.” He paused for a moment, considering “You know, I think they even have an old pair of your underwear on display at the Smithsonian.”

(Steve knew that wasn’t true, but the implication stung nonetheless.) He glanced across the table to where Natasha was slouched in her chair. She just shrugged, face as un-expressive as usual. Clint was flicking an arrow aimlessly between his fingers.

“Or,” Tony continued, obviously still stuck on the topic. “I can just show you.” He turned to the open part of the room. “Jarvis! Bring up what wiki has to say about the Cap.” His hands were immediately manipulating the screens around him, arranging them into an order he approved of before swiveling them in Steve’s direction.

“What’d I tell you? Steven Grant Rogers: born 1918…”

Steve listened in silence as Tony recited the official story of his life, from his time in Brooklyn, to the army, and then even some of the more recent events in his life. All in all, it was fairly accurate, but there were still pieces missing. Pieces that had been buried seventy years ago and continued to stay locked away from the public eye. Probably in a dusty filing cabinet a hundred feet below the ground.

Without saying another word, and with Tony still rambling on about the different jogging routes Steve took in the morning and the coffee shop he liked to frequent, Steve turned around and left the room. Not because he was running away (he still hadn’t shaken the habit of being too stupid to run away from a fight), but because he knew Tony _wanted_ him to fight back, there was nothing that Tony loved more than infuriating people to the point of an argument. So he did what he figured would both anger and surprise Tony the most. He simply walked away.

Tony blinked as the doors slid shut then looked around at the other Avengers with over-exaggerated innocence. “What’d I say?”

Bucky made to stand, hands clenched into fists at his sides and shaking with the effort of not lashing out and punching Stark square across the face, but was kept from following Steve when Tony continued to run his mouth.

“Oh right, forgot he was sensitive about that one. Nearly got my head ripped off last time I said all of his special came from a bottle.” He closed the screens down with a flick of his wrist and made a dismissive gesture. “But it’s not like everyone can have the whole cool, tortured backstory thing going on because otherwise it just wouldn’t be co-”

“Shut up.”

Tony’s eyebrows flew up and he turned on his heel to look in Bucky’s direction. “Come again?”

“Shut. Up.” Bucky bit out from between clenched teeth. “You know nothing about Steve, so stop fucking acting like you do.”

Tony huffed, condescendingly bemused. “Look, just because I don’t know the exact filling to his specific slice of American Pie doesn’t mean-”

“No,” Bucky growled. “There was nothing _sweet_ about the way Steve and I grew up. _Especially_ Steve.”

Tony lifted an incredulous eyebrow. “You want to sit there and tell me Cap had a traumatized childhood? Because we get that he was poor and things were tough, but I really don’t think that’s anything to get your panties in a bunch over. He was still just an average guy for the times. It was the Great Depression, you were all poor and struggling.”

“Steve was the disabled child of two Irish immigrants growing up in the queerest part of Brooklyn. You can’t even begin to understand the shit he had to go through.”

The whirring of gears in Bucky’s arm was all that filled the awkward silence that followed, the click clack of metal causing the others to tense slightly and reach subtly for whatever weapons they had available.

Finally, Tony cleared his throat. “Disabled? I hardly think being short and scrawny constitute as a medical condition.”

Bucky’s face contorted into a forced, mocking sort of surprise. “Oh, you mean you don’t know?”

No one dared to answer as he stood up and clenched his hands into the table, hard enough that the metal of his fingers started to bend the weaker alloy between them. “You mean to tell me,” he laughed, voice completely hollow and devoid of humor. “That you don’t know all of the stuff the army wiped from the record? Because they didn’t want their golden boy coming off the wrong way?”

A gentle hand landed on Bucky’s forearm and he jerked away, scowling down at whoever had dared to touch him but backing off when he saw it was Natasha, with a worried and tight expression on her face. “James…” She murmured, glancing purposefully at the twisted material in his hand, his handprint molded into the metal. Bucky took a purposeful step back then inhaled deeply to clear his head. The last thing he needed was to lose his temper.

“Steve is stronger than any of you can imagine. So stop treating him like the oblivious old man you seem to think he is.” He glared specifically at Tony for that last one, causing the other man to raise his hands in mock surrender.

“Look, I’m not saying he isn’t great and all. I mean, I don’t know about you, but I haven’t heard of anyone else on the planet that can pull off those tights and survive seventy years on ice without dying. Whatever they did to him in that lab definitely made him something special.”

“What’s fucking special about Steve is that he would never, _never_ , put himself above anyone else.” Bucky snapped. “You know how he got into the army? He threw himself on a fucking grenade, he signed himself up to be a lab rat to give this country a chance, to come fight with the rest of us men because he didn’t think it was _fair_ that he stayed back home, to give me less work when it was all said and done…because it was always hard paying for his medicine, getting the heater to keep working, but every goddamn person who knew Steve knew he was special before all the shit they pumped into him. Peggy, Erskine, Colonel Phillips, _your father,_ they’re the people who believed in Steve the most, and they’re the ones who saw him before he became ‘government property’. So if I ever hear you say shit like that to him again, we’re going to have a problem.”

Not waiting for a response, Bucky stormed out of the room, leaving a tense silence behind him. Finally, Natasha stood up from the table and started silently towards the door, all lithe grace and calculated movements. “Nice one, Stark.” She deadpanned.

Clint followed after her, leaving only Tony and Bruce in the room, since Thor hadn’t been able to make the impromptu meeting.

“Why is everyone so touchy?”

Bruce sighed. “You really have a way with words, Tony.” Suddenly, alarms starting blaring around the tower and Bruce shook his head. “Great timing, too.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Tony smirked, already making his way down the hall to where his suit was stored.

Jarvis’ voice came on over the intercom. “There has been a report of a rouge militant group descending on New York. Origin and motivation unknown.”

\---

“I need Clint and Bucky up high, look for anything suspicious and call it out. Natasha, try to find out what they want, get the information and get out. Fast. Stark be ready to take down whatever gets called over the com. I’ll do the same. Banner, try to reroute as many civilians as you can. We don’t need the Hulk for this one, just you.”

Everyone nodded their affirmation and took off, checking in whenever they had information to share. They were getting the job done, but it was obvious something was off. Steve’s commands were less forthcoming, making everything looser and not the more efficient unit they had become accustomed to. They had managed to contain the battle to Central Park, but the enemy had dug in, pulling heavy artillery and anti-aircraft cannons seemingly out of thin air. For Steve and Bucky, it was like being thrown back into the war. Soldiers.

“Anti-aircraft cannons, really?” Tony snorted. “Almost as ancient as you, huh Cap?”

Steve drove his shield into the next man’s head before swinging back and elbowing another. “Just take them out, Tony. Before they hit someone.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.” Tony flew by Steve and did a mock solute before flying over the first canon, dodging incoming ballistics and sending out missiles of his own. An explosion rocked the ground and Tony flew like a rocket from the dust cloud.

It continued much the same way for nearly an hour, until Natasha and Bucky had neutralized the enemy’s leaders and Tony had taken out all of their heavy machinery. Clint was mowing down the last wave of survivors with deadly, rapid shots from his bow that splintered out into entire sections of men. Banner was still trying to keep people from the scene, kept running in circles as spectators pushed to get closer.

Tony fired an explosive into the center of the last group of soldiers, sending the area into a fragile silence as he descended to the ground where the rest of the Avengers were gathering near the edge of the battle zone. Steve wiped some dirt from his brow and let out a tired sigh. At least they had made it through.

The metal suit glinted in the light as Tony’s face plate lifted to reveal a smug grin. “Still think not much has changed in seventy years?” He asked, walking towards them all cocky arrogance and flashy red paint.

A man appeared out of the settling dust and let out a savage yell, only to be silenced moments later by a quick shot from Tony’s suit straight between the eyes. There was a thud, the sound of wind as it swirled dust around them and then the telltale _click-click-click_ as a grenade rolled to a stop just a few feet away. A quick scan from Tony had him yelling. “It’s live!”

And they all jumped back to look for cover. All except Steve, who lunged forward in an attempt to contain the explosion with his body, and Bucky, who reached forward helplessly and watched from ten feet away as bright light suddenly exploded from under his friend’s body, followed by a loud crack and an intense ringing in his ears.

Tony was suspended in the air in silent horror as Bucky’s words from earlier echoed in his ears. _Threw himself on a fucking grenade._

Looked like not much had changed at all.

And then everything seemed to move in slow motion, the dust settling, Bucky screaming…before suddenly speeding up again, bringing on an onslaught of motion and sound.

“Steve!” Bucky yelled again, sprinting across the ground and skidding to his knees by Steve’s side. “ _Steve!_ ”

\---

The hospital room was eerily calm. Bucky had refused to leave Steve’s side since the moment he’d been hit, sitting by him in the transport vehicle, the operation room, and now the hospital bed. It was against every safety and health regulation in the book, but it was hard to argue with a terrified and overprotective super assassin. It was blessing enough Bucky had even let the doctors touch Steve.

As it were, he didn’t let the nurses near him. Just growled at them and did everything himself, had them walk him through each task with lightly quavering voices.

For the first twenty-four hours, only Sam had been allowed in the room, rushed in from DC when he’d been informed of what happened.

Something about Steve’s trust in him allowing Bucky to let him in the door.

On the second day, Sam had convinced Bucky to let the rest of them in as well. But no one knew what to say. Bucky was sitting at Steve’s side, clutching the other man’s hand in a deceptively gentle grip, long hair hanging down and obscuring his face.

Finally, Natasha walked over and laid a gentle hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “He’ll wake up, James. He will. He’ll come back for you.”

Bucky nodded silently and brushed the hair from Steve’s forehead with his metal hand, saying nothing when Natasha bent down and placed a chaste kiss on the unconscious man’s cheek.

Clint gave Bucky a nod, eyes burning with something like understanding, then left the room at Natasha’s side.

Banner took off his glasses and tapped them nervously against his hand. “I looked at his charts and his healing is working at it’s usual accelerated pace. He should be fine in a few days.” Then he too left the room, leaving only Tony to stand awkwardly by the door.

Bucky waited him to say something, but for once the other man stayed silent, just standing and staring at Steve with hollow eyes.

The equipment around them continued to beep steadily, electronic measures of Steve’s life continuing forward.

Even so, Tony looked completely horrible, like Steve was on his deathbed and Tony had put him there himself. Bucky still didn’t feel much sympathy. He never did, when it came to people messing with Steve.

And since Steve probably wouldn’t be happy with him for starting at fight in this instance, he settled for using his words instead.

“Steve...” He began, ignoring Tony’s intake of breath and continuing on. “Steve can be a hard-ass sometimes. He believes in doing the right thing no matter the cost and maybe that makes things ‘less fun’. But it’s also the reason he jumped on top of that grenade yesterday to protect our sorry asses.” He brushed a hand over Steve’s chest, over his heart, careful not to mess up any of the bandages. “So, I don’t want to hear another word about Steve and his principles unless he’s laughing along with you.” He turned to look Tony square in the eye. “Is that clear?”

“Laugh with him, not at him. Got it.” Tony said, face still looking haunted but a little less pale. He cleared his throat. “Tell him thank you, by the way. When he wakes up.”

Tony’s footsteps retreated down the hall and Bucky turned back to look at Steve, nearly bursting into tears of relief when he saw the little smirk on Steve’s face, the dulled amusement in his half-open eyes.

Then reality came crashing back down and he gave Steve a firm punch on his uninjured right shoulder. “You ever do that to me again and I’ll kill you myself, got that punk?”

Steve let out a pained sounding chuckle. “Whatever you say, jerk.”

They both knew he’d do it again in a heartbeat.

Because even though Tony’s words were true, (they _weren’t_ all soldiers), they weren’t just a group of people with guns either. There was trust there. They were a family. And Steve couldn’t just watch them get hurt, not when there was something he could do to protect them.

 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!!!


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